#.i blink and i have to get in bed
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my mental state since i've gotten home:
youtube
#ツ ┊ ⧼ catwalk talk ⧽ ⇹ ( ooc. )#.loud sound warning#.slightly negative but sound clip is funny#.anyway it WAS in the realm of 'maybe not in the best way' earlier#.but once i actually listened to it#. it made me laugh so i feel a bit better#.work is stressing me out a lil and 7 hours after work ( two hours of which is travelling home and then finding something to eat )#.is not enough. it goes by super fast and when it's stressful like this week is about to be#.i blink and i have to get in bed#.i hate being an adult <:)#tbd#Youtube
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HMMMMM bakugou being just. the absolute picture of sin.
he works overnight and comes home early in the morning, around 3 or 4 am or so, and you greet him and give him a kissy and ask how it all went. and even though it's still dark outside and he's been working for twelve hours—he's still coming off patrol, right ? so he's still got some energy left, and he eats something and takes a shower and winds down as you fall back to sleep.
and it's not until much later in the day that he wakes up, early afternoon, and you're kind of tiptoeing around so that he can get his much-needed rest. you slip into the closet of your bedroom for something and you think you're gonna get in and out without a sound, but his hearing is so attuned to just about anything and everything at this point.
so rough and raspy, he grunts out, "what're y'lookin' for?" and you whip around real fast and he's just—
half sitting up in bed, bare back leaning against the headboard. an arm behind his head, so that his bicep is tense and round and stone-solid. stretched like that, his obliques are more prominent, taut and rippling up the side of his ribcage. he must have gotten hot while passed out, as he usually does, because the comforter is all askew; one of his legs is bent, the fine hair a dark gold in the waning day; the other is hanging off the bed, lightly swinging as he watches you, and the blanket has come down enough that you can see the bulge of his thigh muscles beneath his stupid tiny black boxer briefs.
and he's just so. man. in every single way.
(his hair is flat on one side, too, and his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep—but you think that adds to it, all in all)
#i have to get this image out of my head you don't understand#please take this from me i'm PLAUGED by him#he's so WAAAAHHH#like. he's always handsome. always. at all times.#but sometimes he opens his big fat mouth enough that you forget just HOW handsome#and then suddenly he's sitting there looking so cozy in your bed and softly blinking at you while looking like THE MOST ENTICING GUY#ON THE PLANET#and you're like............................oh my god.............#please take this image from meeeeeee GET IT OUT I'M SICK#✿ theme: domestic bakugou#✿ thoughts: bakugou#i've been back less than twenty-four hours and already i've had so much to say LMAOO
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they are similar
#painting is Interlude by Jeremy Lipking#my beautiful Neki#I must tell you all how beautiful he is waking up in the morning.#he tries to blink the drowsiness from his eyes but he gives up so quickly#he isn’t fully awake for another half hour or so!! but I rush ahead#he’ll sometimes do some stretches when he gets out of bed#common one is the Touka Stretch! he reaches his arms over his head and grabs the opposite elbows!#he has very pretty arms. pretty muscles. his complexion is very even but his skin is a little dry#Kaneki likes to leave the curtains undrawn overnight so when the morning comes it illuminates him so wonderfully!#I love how he looks bathed in light he is truly a marvel#I love when he wears t shirt and shorts or briefs to bed unbeatable boy combo#anyway when he leaves his room he might go take a pee or splash his face or something (usually it’s bathroom time) but immediately after#he sets up the kettle to boil so he can have his morning coffee#the coffee is extremely important!!!!!! it is what will actually wake him up!!!!!!!!#until this point his house could’ve been moved to a different planet and he wouldn’t even notice#this is a secret but sometimes while waiting for it to boil if he’s leaning against the counter and no one else is up#he’ll start drifting off again…… don’t tell anyone 🤫 it’s really cute#and when he sips his coffee.. he may do a little sigh…#he’s only up that early when he has somewhere to be though otherwise my boy will sleep in so late#and then he goes to sit with his friends or somewhere where he can watch them a bit while he gets himself together#maybe Banjou will look at his bed hair and say “huh. you look like a dandelion”#and it’s true he is the most wonderful dandelion there is because you don’t even have to make a wish#he alone is like every wish come true!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#my Kaneki!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🌱🥰#kaneki time#kaneki ken
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*emerges from a deep dark cave after being missing for thirty years covered in dirt and mud* just finished tuning a vocal synth cover
#did this to myself last night. i have alarms around 10-11 pm to remind me to get ready to go to bed#and to not get lost in some nonsense for five hours straight. and last night i had dismissed them early cause i was like#ehhh i think i'll wind down at a reasonable time tonight :) and then i blinked and it was 3 am
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WIP (not actually) Wednesday
Thank you both so much for the tag @greypetrel and @ndostairlyrium! I am about to do a different WIP thing for my writing so here is an update on the Warden scarf:
Alas, I had to frog the whole first draft and start over. I am happier with how this one is looking so far! I've decided to work it vertically instead of horizontally, so it is the length it will be and I add to the width with every row. I'll also be adding a few rows of silver in there, but haven't completely decided if I want to go with a chainmail look or a border of silver yet. We'll play it by ear!
Tragically, Wednesday has passed, but even so I will tag @heniareth @pinayelf @vakarians-babe @brother-genitivi @zenstrike and YOU if anyone has something they'd like to share c:
#scarf wip#wip wednesday#i tried to do this yesterday but i s2g i get home i blink and it's time to go to bed#i have no idea where the time goes
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torn between "i need to draw my ocs at their lowest moments, suffering in agony, covered in blood, etc" and "i should draw my ocs in their dream home surrounded by loved ones and petting a cat"
#psst wanna know a secret. this is#fhr posting#because i'm thinking aboutttt#taliesin becker#i've drawn tal suffering like. idk 4 times in the last few days#but what if they could like. have a comfy bed and get a good nights sleep#they love spoon but i think they're a cat person deep down#i'm no telepath but my cat has the same effect on me as Spoon does on sidestep#she's sitting here slow blinking at me rn#this post is also about#al a kazam#he NEEDS a cat. or else he'll die. a second time#he already died once and i bet it was because he didn't have a cat /j#jk it's because a cop shot him. well they shot at him once and missed and he probably made fun of them for it and then they didn't miss#but i bet if he had a cat he would've had more self preservation
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i’m seeing relatives in a few days and they have a tendency to ask if i’ve made any new friends because i’ve moved to a new city but also i’m bad at socialising in general and i’m trying to figure out how to tell them that my best friend in the new city is a cat
#he’s my beautiful boy#he has brought me more joy than i have felt in weeks#i don’t want to rush into anything but if the person who wants to adopt him isn’t able to then. i am looking actively#my building doesn’t allow animals but i’d see what i could do because having a motivation to get out of bed is nice#usually it’s class or work as my motivation but that is making me burn out faster than a match lit at both ends so#earl might be my saving grace here#my mum is like ‘you’ll meet people who you’re comfortable with you just have to take the step to meet people’ and like. yeah true#but i also have the social battery of a flea and am just not good at socialising in general unless it’s with authority figures#but Earl is nice. hanging out with him i mean#his body language means he communicates boundaries easily and he loves just sitting and hanging out and there’s no pressure to say the right#thing or have the right body language or facial expression or worry about emoting correctly#other than keeping my body relaxed and slow blinking at him when he looks at me#(he’s started slow blinking back and i’m so excited)#i don’t have to do anything else#he’s my little buddy#i am just incredibly burnt out and don’t really have human friends here that don’t take my energy to hang out with#(like i have friends in the building but they like to drop a lot of their shit on me and we’re not close so i especially can’t handle it)#so having a companion who doesn’t drain my spoons to be around is really nice#did i cry over this today? yes.#earl the grey
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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.
#ringmaster doodles#sona art#( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )
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I love it when i accidentally stay up on the night im supposed to be catching up on sleep it totallly doesnt make me feel horrible all week long
#talk post#i love this blog i want to live here#I cant!!! i just cant!!! go to bed at a normal fucking time istg#but noooooo the wild grinders wiki no some stupid bullshit no one has ever cared about before#WHEN I DONT GET ENOUGH SLEEP MY MENTAL HEALTH GETS WAY WORSE!!!!! IF I DONT FIX IT WE ARE GOING TO GET TOO SILLY#(yelling at a mirror)#seriously bothers me tho that Im always worried about how intense my negative feelings have been lately#and im like “oh ill just get more sleep” and then immediately fuck it up the next night making me tired all week#making me feel SO bad in the mornings and at night and increasing my paranoia and other such thoughts#and in trying to tune it all out just forget about it again leading to me fucking it up again#this is a bit dramatic its only happened 2 weeks in a row#but that feels like a lot because thats like 10 nights where i felt like i blinked and i had to wake up and go to school#and not only deal with my shitty social skills but the results of said thing#and also try to fight the thoughts that are like “this shits pointless im not doing this” LIKE PLEASE pretend to be normal for one year#and also that one teacher i have who demands every students attention while he teaches like i already finished the work sheet shut it#like i do well in that class just let me do what i want im not being distracting like girl i have at least an 87 dw about me#PLUS most of the time im not even on my phone he just really wants me to look at the board but girl as i said I ALREADY DID WHATS ON THERE#i feel like i never get to relax but i do all the time so i dont know what i mean#i keep saying “its ok as long as i can bury all my thoughts and just keep going while filling what free time i have with things i enjoy”#but things only work for so long#i hate the passage of time#anyawy erm wrong my guitar is in my mind (stupid ass guitar riff)#walks over to my bed and trips on the way falling asleep on the floor#ramble#hit post
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Fuck it.
Lexi. If you even care.
#I miiissss heeerr :(((#she’s like the definition of a poor little meow meow she’s so pathetic I’m obsessed with her#she’s got chronic anxiety#and she gets car sick so you can’t take her anywhere#the third picture I took after she hid one of her bones in my suitcase and was guarding it#she later would move it to my closet and then underneath my bed comforter#which the bed comforter one was pretty impressive she got it underneath in the middle and put the blanket back almost perfectly#I wouldn’t have guessed if she hadn’t been acting suspicious and jumped up when I got on my bed#anyways I actually almost exclusively take videos of her because she’s camera shy#and her silly little windmill tail wags are some of her best qualities#so I honestly don’t have that many just plain photos of her#anyways I’ll get to see her soon even if it’s just for like… literally a day#but that’s better than nothing! I just hope I won’t be too tired#if I had the energy levels to take care of a dog I would totally take her with me#but I do not and also I live in the middle of a city and she’s terrified of cars so I don’t think she’d like it much anyways#and she gets carsick so it’s not like I could drive her somewhere quieter😅#every dog is special but also… you can tell we picked her up off the street even if it’s been years since then#anyways back to her wags it’s so funny because she’ll turn around to look at you for butt scritches#and she’ll keep blinking and flinching because she’ll just hit herself in the face with her tail#and it literally moves almost in a circle I love her#and when you take her outside to play and she gets all excited!!#she also has a little toy ball that we call squeakers and if you ask her ‘where’s squeakers????’ she’ll go run and get jt#okay I’m done lexiposting… for now#idek why I miss her so much later but I do!!!#I even played with my brothers dog Momo for a bit today but smh not the same#by yours truly the omelette of cheese#my pets#I should make a Nikki post some time too#we had to put her down probably about five years ago now?#but she was also a quality Dog if a bit more normal than lexi lmao
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grabbing rainbow sherbet vodka for the stream because I know it's what ichi would want 🤞
bro grabbing that fucking super mario vodka what the shit 😭
#snap chats#i dont know what im gonna get...... i SHOULD get soju since i can get more for cheaper#and soju's more potent now innit... but i am a sake fan... sake my best friend..#but i like my sake hot. unless its nigori then OF COURSE you have to have it chilled....#gddammit i left my shot glass at my moms. i didnt think id need it </3#maybe sake's the game then.....#just to make sure i dont ACTUALY black out NO DID I TELL THE TIME I BLAKCED OUT FOR THE FIRST AND ONLY TIME#ILL TELL IT AGAIN SINCE ITS TOPICAL IT WAS THE NIGHT OF MY SISTER'S WEDDING#and i went out post-wedding drinking with my dad and my sis and her hubby yeah#and /im/ a master of acting like im fine when im not when i care to and since i never want to look A Fool in front of my father again#i acted fine after i reached the point where I Very Much Was Not Fine#LIKE THERE WERE DRINKS AT THE WEDDING OOFC BUT I ALSO GOT SOME WHISKEY AT A BAR WE WENT TO#AND SO EVENTUALLY MY DAD AND HIS WIFE AND I ALL GO BACK TO THE HOTEL WE'RE ALL STAYING AT#god theyre so embarrassing i was walking (read: wobbling) back to the room i shared with my bro#and theyre just :) 👋 Good Niiiight We're Gonna Watch You Go Until You're Safe :) 👋 <- im literally down the hall from them#and the fucking. SECOND i get into my room im just hhoUUGGHGHHH BROTHER OF MINE. WHAT IS HAPPENING#i dont remember what happened i know i started watching Why Dont You Play In Hell again and then i suddenly woke up in my bed#I WAS ON THE COUCH LIKE I CANNOT STRESS THE ABRUPTNESS OF ME WAKING UP IN BED#I SAT ON THE COUCH TO WATCH THE MOVIE I THINK I GOT 27 MINUTES IN AND I BLINKED AND I INSTATRANSMISSIONED#hilarious. anyway i refuse to let that happen ever again AFLKEFJKAJ#so sake's the call. i think. idk we'll see what my wallet thinks cause the sake is a lil pricier than the soju..#it a special occasion live a little. is what ill tell myself ☠️
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I love how my body exists in a constant dual state of: Omg I'm so fucking exhausted I just want to sleep for years vs Omg my head is buzzing and I'm nowhere near ready for sleep. Like. Body. Can we pick one or the other? Please? Not both at once?
#chronic fatigue#im so fucking tired#this whole week has been nothing but exhaustion#low energy all day followed by an absolute energy crash between 7 and 10 pm.#but for some reason any time i got to be around 10ish im awake at 4am which is far too early so i cant go to bed at 10 even tho im exhausted#but then i blink and its after 1am again and i just want it all to stop#i just want to sleep#i want a healthy amount of sleep i want to wake up rested i want to have energy to get through my day#☉#fox thoughts
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Reminder to myself: REMOVE THE BACKGROUND OF ARTFIGHT REFS. You use that grey for a reason and forgetting to remove the bright white background of the character ref DEFEATS THAT PURPOSE
#listen listen listen. i get really into drawing. i forget to blink sometimes#staring at a bright white background Literally Hurt My Eyes and i would Have to stop after 2 hours#i think my eyes are just too sensitive to light#the grey brings down the contrast by a lot and makes my eyes not hurt#as long as i TAKE OFF THE BACKGROUNDS#argargarg im going to bed soon
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every day i wake up abd i see your yakuza posts and its like a daily occurrence
the sun is shining so nicely today :) and i open my phone is the furst thing i see is “i wish kiryu would let me suck him” abd i feel fulfilled
this blog is how i learned about yakuza and i want nothing more than to see it from you
You guys are literally so nice to me... every day i think to myself maybe i wont be so horny to spare my followers from the whorrors and then i open tumblr and immediately type some shit like i wanna strap metal bands to his ankles and deglove his legs with electricity and hit post without even thinking maybe i should give the keyboard a rest today ... i hope every day after this one is beautiful for you .... grins
#Thanks for the ask !#you got me down so well like yeah i do wish kiryu would let me suck him#but if he doesnt then ill just have to do it within a split second so that he doesnt notice#like a lightning strike on his groin. quick attack on his inner labia. one suck and i have his pants back up whistling innocently with my#hands tucked into my pockets and he regards me with suspicion before he unzips his pants to see and ive left him a small box of chocoates#and a love letter and he reads it with one hand while i hug his other arm and blink wetly at him like a seal and then he says sorry i just#dont feel the same way. and i say at least keep the chocolates ..? and he thinks for a moment before going no thank you#and he walks away and then when he rounds a corner he drops my beautiful handcrafted letter into the bin and the camera zooms in on it and#it just says any1 up? who wants 2 suck me#kiryu sees me around often and he approaches me one day like hey are you my new neighbour ? and i go im your stalker#i will catch sight of him coming down the street then i will start squealing and giggling and running back to my house to sift through my#belongings and bring a cinderblock out to the balcony so i can throw it directly at his head then call the ambulance so i can ride inside#with him and watch him concussed as hell with his eyes rolling in his head and i go it will be okay kiryu !!! and he goes mfrrgh#im crawling into the hospital bed with him so i can hug his arm and kiss his shoulder all day and he mumbles that he needs to go to the#toilet and i nod in understanding and kneel at the foot of the bed with my mouth open and he gets angry at me#how nice would kiryu be to hug he is so big and burly and so much space on his beautiful skin for kissing and bite marks. he lifts up his#hospital gown to piss and ive already dove between his legs and started sucking the goop straight out the cervical tap. im jumpscaring him#its like a majima everywhere event but instesd of fighting him i crawl out the sewer and attach my teeth to his ankles and dont let go no#matter how much he shouts at or kicks me because im giggling and so happy we are hanging out#i say all this but if i knew kiryu irl he would be my sweet baby boy who i would go out of my way to give massive discounts to (i work at#the m store and always throw in some free hair gel for him)
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Saw someone say Taylor Swift is objectively worse than N*cki M*naj for the terrible crime of *checks notes* using a private jet to travel because if she were to use any other long distance form of travel then people would harass her as oppose to N*cki’s terrible crime of…oh yeah…defending her rapist husband
#people trashing her over this private jet thing#as If that is even close to the worst thing a celebrity could do#as If she hasn’t on multiple occassions had crazies try to DRAG HER OFF HER STAGE AT HER OWN CONCERT#where there is SECURITY EVERYWHERE#she had a man break into her home while she was gone to SLEEP IN HER BED#she is literally not safe traveling with normal people because of crazy stans AND because of the people who hate her so much#like literally her biggest crime is being too famous and being privileged#meanwhile there are celebrities who are actual rapists and abusers and openly bigots#who don’t get nearly the same criticisms she gets#‘all her music sounds the same’ even if it did (which it certainly does not) why is that so terrible???#there are celebrities who are decently big that have been making the same music for DECADES and no one blinks an eye#she makes music in multiple GENRES#you don’t have to love her or even like her all that much it’s just so annoying seeing all the hate she gets#sorry for the rant I’m not even tagging this it’s just 2am and I’m EXHAUSTED#(mentally not physically cuz I just slept the entire day cuz I’m not doing well)
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// I- wow. This is... incredibly comprehensive. Now you've got me thinking: as a squad without a dedicated handler - or any handler at all, actually - would that make us easier or harder to recondition? (Is that even still an option for us, now...?)
asking for a friend - where can I find the link to this "mech pilot care guide"? is it buried in the Omninet archives somewhere? (I doubt any of my usual contacts would know, HORUS or otherwise; they usually get off to that sort of abuse thing...)
> ...hm.
-- Angel, Slipshod, & Lockbreaker
decided to crack open my skull and pour the contents of my brain onto the keyboard. thought the denizens of tumblr might enjoy it. bon appetite
Mech Pilot Care guide
You never expect it, do you. Even as you see the flashes of pulse-decay fire in the sky, illuminating a scene of violence on the cosmic scale. Planetary defense satellites forming Monolithic structures in the sky, their purpose now revealed as they scatter constellations of destruction across the night horizon, drowning out the stars and replacing them with ones born of death. The oxygen in a ship catching fire and burning away in an instant, a flash of light that marks the death of its crew of hundreds. Even if you take your telescope to watch this spectacle, this war in a place without screams, you still feel profoundly disconnected from it. Even as you see a pilot cleave through a drone hive with a fusion blade, the molten metal glistening in the light of the explosions around it, scattering without gravity to the corners of the universe, even as two mechs dance across the sky, their reactors pouring into the engines enough energy to power the house atop which you sit for ten thousand years, flying in a 3.5 dimensional dance with only one word to the song that can reach across the vacuum: “I Will Kill You.” you don’t feel even the slightest glimpse of what goes on inside their minds. You don’t feel the neurological feedback tearing across the brain-computer interface, filling her mind with more simultaneous pain and elation that an unmodified human could ever experience. You don’t feel it as the pneumatic lance punctures through steel and nanocarbon polymer, the mech AI sending floods of a sensation you could never truly know through the skull and into every corner of the body carried on enhanced nerves for every layer of armor punctured, tearing into the enemy chassis with a desire beyond anything the flesh can provide. Let the stars kill each other. After all, I am safe on earth. No, you don’t expect it when the star is hit with a sub-relativistic projectile, piercing through both engines in an instant. You don’t expect it to fall. You never would have expected it to land, the impact nearly vaporizing the soil and setting trees aflame, on the hill beyond your house, and you would never have expected, beneath the layers of cooling slag, for the life-support indicator light to still be visible.
All the fire extinguishers in your house, your old plasma cutter that you haven’t used in years, and whatever medical supplies you think they might still be able to benefit from. All that on a hoverbike, speeding at 120 kilometers per hour through the valley and up onto the hill, still illuminated by the battle above, unsurprisingly unchanged by this new development. 200 meters. 100 meters. You don’t know how much time you’ve got. It wasn’t exactly covered in school, how long a pilot can survive in an overheating frame. You’ve heard rumors, of course, of what these things that used to be human have become. That they don’t eat and barely need air. That they don’t feel any desire beyond what instructions are pumped directly into their brains. Not so much of a person as much as an attack dog. It’s understandably a bit concerning, as if they are alive, then it’s not guaranteed that you will be. Three fire extinguishers later, the surface of the mech is mostly solid, and the cutter slices through the exterior plating. With a satisfying crunch, the cockpit is forced open, revealing the pilot, and confirming a few of the rumors, while refuting others. Pilots, it seems, are not quite emotionless. In fact, there seems to be genuine fear on its face when it sees you, followed by… a sort of grim certainty as it opens its mouth, moves its jaw into a strange position, and you only have half a second to react before it would have bitten down with all its force on the tooth that seemed to be made of a different material then all the rest.
Your thumb is definitely bleeding, and is caught between a metamaterial-based dental implant, and one containing a military-grade neurotoxin. You’re not sure exactly why you did it. The pilot looks at you for a second, before the tubes that attach to its arms like puppet strings run out of stimulants, and it passes out after who knows how long without sleep. This battle has been going on for weeks already. Has it been fighting that long? Its various frame-tethered implants disconnect easily, the unconscious pilot draped over your shoulder twitching slightly with each one you remove. It’s a much longer ride back to the house. Avoiding having the pilot fall off the bike is the top priority, and the injured thumb stings in the fast-moving air.
An internet search doesn’t lead to many helpful sources to the question of “there is a mech pilot on my couch, what do I do?” a few articles about how easy targets retired pilots are for the “doll sellers,” a few military recruitment ads, and a couple near-incomprehensible legal documents full of words like “proprietary technology” or “instant termination.” However, there is one link, a few rows down from the top-- “Mech Pilot Care Guide.” It’s a detailed list, arranged in numbered steps. The website has no other links on it, just the step-by-step instructions: a quick read reveals that this isn’t going to be easy, but looking at the unconscious pilot, unabsorbed chemicals dripping from the ports in its arms and head onto the mildly bloodstained towel, you come to the conclusion that there’s no other option.
Step one: the first 24 hours.
The first thing you should know is that pilots aren’t used to sleeping. They’re used to being put under for transport and storage, but after the neural augmentations and years of week-long battles sustained by stimulants that would fry the brain of anyone that still has an intact one, they’ve more or less forgotten what real sleep is. If they see you asleep, they’ll think you’re dead, so don’t try to let them stay in your room yet. Once you’ve removed the neurotoxin from the tooth (it breaks easily with a bit of applied pressure, but be careful not to let any fall into their mouth or onto your skin.), start by moving them into a chair (preferably a recliner or gaming chair, as the mech seat is about halfway in between), and putting a heavy blanket over them. Don’t worry, they don’t need as much air as normal humans do, and can handle high temperatures up to a point. This is an environment similar to the one they’re used to. It’ll stay like this for about 12 hours-- barely breathing, trembling slightly underneath the blanket. Feel free to check if it’s alive every few hours, not that you could help it if it wasn’t. It won’t freak out when it wakes up. In fact, it doesn’t seem like they can. Turn down the lights and remove the blanket from its face. It’ll stare blankly at you, trying to evaluate the situation with a brain that’s not connected to a computer that’s bigger than they are anymore. Coming to terms, if you could call it that, with the fact that it isn’t dead. Don’t expect it to start reacting to things for a while yet, give it a couple hours.
It’s been a bit, and its eyes are starting to focus on you. The next thing you should know is this: pilots only have two groups into which they can categorize non-pilots: handler and enemy. You need to work on making sure you’re in the right one. Move slowly, standing up and walking toward them, making sure they can see where you’re going to step. Place both hands on their shoulders, then slide one under their arm and carefully pick them up. Don’t be startled by how light they are, or how they still shake slightly as they realize their arms don’t have anything connected to them. Most importantly, don’t break. Don’t reflect on how something can be done to a person so that this is all that’s left. Just focus on rotating them as if you’re inspecting all the brain-computer interface ports, while holding them at half an arm’s length. Set them back down, wrap the blanket around them, then lean in close and say “status report.” they won’t say anything, as they usually upload the data via interface, but what’s important is that now they recognise you as their handler. Their entire mind will be focused on the fact that they exist now to do what you want. Now it’s up to you to prove them wrong.
Step two: the first week.
They’re shaking so hard that you’ve had to move them from the chair back to the couch, sweating heavily as they pant like the dog they’ve been trained to think they are. This was to be expected, really. Pilots are constantly being filled with a mix of stimulants, painkillers, and who knows what else, and you’ve just cut them off completely. You’ve woken up several times in the night and rushed to check if they’re still breathing, debating whether you should try to tell them that they’re going to be okay. The guide says they’re not ready for that yet, whatever that means. They’re still wearing the suit you found them in, made from nanofiber mesh and apparently recycling nutrients and water before re-infusing them intravenously. It’s been three days since you tore them out of the lump of metal atop the hill outside. Long enough that the suit’s battery, apparently, has run out. You lift them gently from the couch and carry them to the bathroom. The shower’s been on for the past hour or so, meaning the temperature should be high enough. You set them on their chair, which you’ve rolled there from the living room and covered with a towel. Removing the suit normally isn’t done except in between missions, and it’s only done to exchange it for a new one. Without the proper tools, you’ve opted for a pair of scissors. Cutting through the suit takes a bit of time, but you manage to cut a sizable line from the neck down to the front to the bottom of the torso. The pilot recoils slightly from the cold metal against their skin, but you manage to peel off the suit without incident, The Temperature of which was roughly the same as the steam filling the room, and you’ve done your best to minimize air currents. They’ve got a bit more shape to them than you expected of someone who’s been so heavily modified. Perhaps what little fat storage it provides helps on longer missions, or perhaps this is for the purposes of marketing. Just another recruitment ad that appeals to baser instincts. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Using a cloth with the least noticeable texture possible, you wash off as much sweat and dead skin as you can, avoiding the various interface and IV ports, as you’re not yet sure that they’re waterproof. Embarrassment is the enemy of efficiency, so you’re slightly glad that their eyes never completely focus on you. They shift their weight slightly, however. Despite the difficulty moving with their current symptoms, they lean in the direction opposite the places you wash once you're done, allowing you to more easily access the places you haven’t got to yet. An act of trust that you have a suspicion they weren't “programmed” to do. As they dry out, you prepare for the difficult part. You take the blanket that previously wrapped around their suit, and gently touch a corner of it to their shoulder. Pilots are used to an amount of sensory information that would overload any normal human in an instant, but most rarely experience textures against their skin. After about half an hour, they’re used to it enough that you’re able to replace what’s left of the suit with it, and after another you’re able to wrap them in it again. You carry them back to the couch, and place a few of your old shirts next to their hand. They pick one and touch it with one finger before recoiling slightly. Eventually, they’ll be used to at least one of them enough that they can wear it. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.
Step 3: food
It goes without saying that it’s usually been at least a year since they’ve eaten anything. The augmentations scooped out much of their knowledge on how to survive as a human, assuming that they would die before ever needing to be one again. Start them off with just flavors. Give them a chance to pick favorites by giving them a wide selection and firmly telling them to try all of them. Avoid anything solid for the first month or so, both because they can’t digest it and because they associate chewing with their self-destruct mechanism. Trying to and surviving might make them think the “mission’s fully compromised” and attempt to improvise. They’ll typically pick out favorites quickly with their enhanced senses, so once they’ve sampled everything, tell them to pick one. Remember it, not in order to use it as a reward or anything, but them still being able to have a “favorite” anything is something you should keep in mind for later.
Use a similar method anytime they become able to handle the next level of solidity. Don’t be alarmed if one of their favorite foods is the meat that’s most similar to humans (such as pork.) they’re not going to eat you, they just will have already formed an association between that flavor and the moment they went from being a weapon to living in your house. Don’t worry about your thumb getting infected, by the way. Pilots barely have a microbiome.
Step 4: entertainment:
Roll them over to your computer and give them access to your game library. No, really. They need enrichment, and there’s only one activity that they’re able to enjoy at the moment. A simulation of it will make the shift from weapon to guest easier. Start them off with an FPS with a story. Don’t go multiplayer, as your account may get banned for being suspected of using aimbots. Watch as they progress the story. The military left pilots with just enough of a personality to allow them to improvise, and that should be enough for them to make decisions on this level. They won’t do much character customization, but keep an eye on which starting character body shape they pick. No pilot would consciously think they have enough of a “Self” to still have a gender, but keep track of the ones they pick in the games. As for the one you’ve found, it appears that she’s got a player-character preference. You even saw her nudge one of the appearance sliders before clicking “start game.” Whether this means that a pilot doesn’t think of themselves as “it” or that it means there’s still enough of their mind left for them to know there’s more to themselves than the body they have, it’s a handy bit of information to know. Some pilots might have had this decision influenced by their handlers having referred to them as “she” in the way it refers to boats, but still, on some level they always know that “it” meant that they’re a weapon.
Step 6: outside:
There’s a profound difference between experiencing the world through information fed directly into your brain and standing up for the first time, wandering around the room and investigating with hands not made of a half-ton of metal. She’s not used to feeling the air on her skin as she stands in front of the window, visual data coming from two eyes instead of seven cameras. It’ll take a while to get used to it again. New old data, reminiscent of a time before she’s been trained not to remember. It’ll take a while until she’s walking like a human and not a mech, as the muscles used are different, and the ones to hold herself upright haven’t been used in a while. She’s going to fall down at least once. Be sure you’re standing next to her when it happens, as pilots that fall aren’t trained to think they can get back up. It’s worth it, though, when she opens the door herself and strides into the yard, still wobbly but standing. Be careful not to let her look into the sun, partially because it looks nearly identical to the barrel of a pulse-decay blaster milliseconds before it fires. She would get hurt trying to dodge it. It will be somewhat confusing for her, standing on a hill as she once did, but not contained within a 12-meter metal chassis. A feeling of being small and alone without the voices of the computer. This means it’s time for step seven.
Step 7:
All this time, and any idea that she’s still a person has, for her, been subconscious. Any thought of humanity is stopped when it slams into the wall of her handlers and mech AIs reminding her for years before now that she is a weapon. She’ll still ask for your permission before doing just about anything, and that’s just the rare times that she’ll do something you don’t tell her to. Even after you’ve moved her into your room, she’ll still try to sleep on the floor. She still thinks that beds are only for humans. Kneel next to her as she curls into a ball on the ground, assuming that’s what she’s supposed to do. Expect her to try to move down to the foot of the bed after you set her down on it. Gently move her back up until her head’s on the pillow. Sit on the edge of the bed, and hold out your hand to her. After a bit, she’ll take it, wrapping both hands around it and tracing her fingers along the scar on your thumb. Lie down next to her, an arm’s length apart. Place your other hand on her forearm, then slide it up her arm to her shoulder. Don’t move too quickly, and don’t surprise her. Whisper softly but audibly every movement you’re going to make in advance. Move in a bit closer, until you’re wrapped in her arms. Mech pilots aren’t used to this. They aren't used to feeling someone next to them. Not above them, but next to them, getting exactly as much out of this as they are. Even after several months, many won’t admit they deserve it. You wouldn’t waste time lying next to a gun. So why do they feel so strongly that they don’t want you to leave? Why do they hold on tighter? They often feel they’re doing something wrong. Overstepping a boundary. There’s a rift between what they want and what they’re told they can want that nearly tears their mind in half, and it hurts. No normal human will ever know how much it hurts them to think they’ve broken some instruction, that they feel things they aren’t allowed to. Nobody said it was easy, learning how to become human again. Tell her it’s okay. That she’s allowed to feel this way. She still won’t know why. It’s time to tell her. The guide can’t tell you what to say, only that you have to say it. It has to come from you. You have to be the one that tells her what she is underneath all the modifications. It’s time, say it.
“Do you feel that? Do you feel your heart start to beat faster as it presses up against mine? Do you feel your own breath against your skin after it reflects off my shoulder? Do you feel your muscles start to tighten as I slide my hand across them, then relax because you know it means that you are safe? It’s because you’re alive. Because despite everything, you’re still alive. Still someone left after all the changes, all the augmentations. And I know you’re someone because you are someone that likes food a bit spicier than most would prefer. Someone that closes her eyes and gets lost in music whenever it’s playing. Someone that added that one piece of customization to her character, even though they would wear a helmet for most of the game and nobody would know it was there but you. Maybe you aren’t the same person you were before. Maybe they did take some things from you that nothing can give back. But you’re still someone. Someone that people can still care about, and I know because I do.”
You can feel her tears drip down onto your neck as she pulls you closer. She tries to say something, but you can’t understand what. You tell her it’s okay. That it’s not easy, and that she doesn’t have to pretend that it is. Not for you, and not for anyone anymore. She doesn’t have to be useful anymore. No need to keep it together. All that matters is that she’s alive.
There’s another battle going on in the night sky outside. The same flashes of light you saw the night you stopped living alone, even if the other person couldn’t admit that they were one yet. She still flinches at the brighter bursts of pulse-decay fire, still stretches out her hand on reflex to prime a pneumatic lance that isn’t there. But she knows it’s not her, it’s just a ghost of the weapon that died when it hit the ground. You can feel her relax as she realizes this, moving her hand back to dry her face before reaching out towards yours. You hadn’t noticed the tears on your own face. You place your hand on hers as she wipes the corner of your eye. Outside and above, the war continues on a cosmic scale, so far apart from where you both are now that you barely notice it. Let the stars kill each other. After all, the one before you has already fallen, and she doesn’t have to return to the sky. Together, you are safe on earth.
#lancer ttrpg#lancer rpg#lancerrpg#// maybe we don't think about this one too hard#// maybe we go to bed early tonight so that we don't get homesick looking out the window towards Argo Navis#// maybe we delete the blink coordinates to Galán Station off of our data records temporarily; just in case#+ in case it wasn't glaringly obvious the friend is me#+ there are several folks I know and have known that could benefit from having this information#> it would appear I have some colleagues to contact; their perspectives on handler-pilot relationships would be very useful right now#OOC: oh my god I need this on this blog IMMEDIATELY#WOWZA OP this is some SOLID writing right here
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